


Outer Dreams

by zanthe



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: M/M, Post-Game, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanthe/pseuds/zanthe
Summary: Such a limiting, limitless world for an entity that learned loneliness and longing.
Relationships: Alvis/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	Outer Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I might've ended up rambling near the end when I lost where I was going, but oh well, it's done and I don't proofread :>

In a peaceful world, it was odd to see dreams as a sort of refuge. Peace had been established, the titans were no more, the gods slept in the memories of those they had been known to. 

Meyneth was still a paradigm of hope, love, and compassion to the people whose hearts had been touched by her existence. Her memory was treasured, and the Machina were quick to rebuild a shrine for her, to honor her memory, and to pass down her teachings.

Zanza was remembered by few, and remembered in scorn. In the scriptures written, he was described, but never to be drawn. Zanza's image was to be forgotten, kept in vague detail. A final kindness to his unwilling hosts.

There was one kept even more secret, however. Not truly a god, his power was beyond even that, but it was not quite power. No, Alvis was not a god nor a person, he was incomprehensible, and yet Shulk knew exactly who he was, even if he didn't have a word for him. 

In this peaceful world he'd created, Alvis had parted with them, his final words to the group had been about this new universe, how it was limitless. After that, he disappeared, never to be seen again. Not a trace left, unless you knew what to look for, and Shulk felt lucky that he did, even if he was the only one. 

He'd tried to find him, he'd searched for almost two years, charting the land in the process. A lot of this new world seemed to be parts of the titans, but some areas were new, he'd never seen a desert before, and the homs dared not try to cross it yet.

For two years he clung to the idea that maybe, just maybe, he'd find Alvis again. Perhaps across the desert, beyond the new stretches of land, hidden somewhere. But why would he hide? He had no reason to, and this realization led to another.

Alvis wasn't in this world. At least not in a physical way.

Shulk wondered for months if his decision to remain a simple homs had also meant he wouldn't be able to see him again, but if it did it wouldn't change a thing. He had no regrets in his choices. 

The month he gave up, shook away his doubts, and focused his attention on the colonies instead was the month he had a strange dream.

Dreams that were vivid, that he had no power within, were dreams he hadn't gotten since Zanza's death. Dreams like these were always the kind Alvis visited him in.

This dream was no different, and it would be one of many over the course of the next few years.

Alvis, as he explained to Shulk, was part of the universe itself. An observer of sorts, no longer allowed to interfere. The guidance he had offered Shulk before had been allowed only because it had fallen within the margin of fate. His physical form had been granted to him by that universe's ruling deity.

With the world freed from the clutches of a god, Alvis was no longer permitted a physical form, no longer anything more than a spectator. And oh, how terribly lonely it was to exist like this, unknown to the population, and rarely acknowledged. He was watching intently, always. It was all he really could do, until the fates inevitably brought about something new for him to do.

But that would be a while yet, and so long as Shulk was independant of him, he could sneak in a few visits, listen to the homs recount the latest events. He knew it all, of course, but it was always a delight to hear it from another's perspective, a biased perspective. The experiences of a mortal were unique, and nothing was as wonderfully contagious as Shulk's excitement.

It was less lonely when Shulk finally understood that he was always there. Even now, as the homs lay in a field under the stars, he was there, Shulk knew now. The stars above, the ground below, the wind that rustled tall grass, the sound of it, the smell of it, all of these things were the gentlest of messages, from a universe that loved him. 

That was no salvation from longing, however. Longing for those months they could truly be together, holding hands as they strolled through Alcamoth, huddling close against the cold of Valak Mountain, tender moments enjoying all the world had to offer. To see the sparkle in Shulk's eyes as he took in the scenery of a new location once more, to feign disinterest as he challenged him to a race down the slope to see who could get there the fastest, to sit beneath a tranquil sky and simply be. 

Such emotions were dangerous, Alvis knew. Such a thing as himself shouldn't have them in the first place, he was the structure of the universe, a program, something only granted existence by the mistake of a realm long destroyed. Lines of code given sentience, learning to feel. He wondered what it would be like to be selfish, just for an instant. Would it be possible to grant himself form in this universe?

Surely, he could do it. Arrange a few trillion atoms for himself, allow himself a vessel in which to experience life the way a mortal would once more.

No, he couldn't.

He had only been pulled from his role of a formless entity to aid Zanza, and his 'betrayal' had not been for his own sake, or of his own will. Simply the better outcome of a branching fate. 

But with no gods, he was free to do as he pleased, wasn't he?

A bitter emotion flowed through him, because he knew he never would be free. In the end, no matter how much power he held over this reality, he was a computer without an administrative user, able to perform certain tasks on his own, but others would remain off-limits, and creation was one of those limits.

Perhaps, a different solution, then? No, it would have been impossible to ask. To create a new universe, Shulk had to will it so, and he would create it. It was pointless to dwell on it, but he wondered anyway, if it would have been possible to be selfish and ask Shulk for something more specific than just "A world with no need for gods." A world where he could be free of this task, a world where the universe was autonomous, completely. 

He supposed it could have been interpreted as such, but Shulk was no longer a god, it was too late to change things, and Alvis could not be selfish in requesting such a thing in the first place. 

Could he sigh in this form, he would. Perhaps in his next visit to Shulk's dreams he'd let out a mighty sigh, melt into his arms, and allow himself a moment to lament his situation. The hom's dreams were a refuge, to him mostly. Shulk remembered him by his physical form, and so in these dreams Alvis could assume it, but it was not a form of flesh and blood. Only an illusion.

Resigned, Alvis watched the universe persist, waiting patiently for the next reunion, hoping one day they could be together once more, outside of dreams.


End file.
